


Sorry seems to be the hardest word

by TheRegularWriter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, At this point everything I write is to cope with my own issues, Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV) References, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Childhood Trauma, Complex-PTSD, Fluff, For our own sake, Gen, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I hate to emphasize this but THIS IS PLATONIC!!!, Insecurity, Let's ignore Infinity War and Endgame, Maria Stark's Bad Parenting, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Past Child Abuse, Platonic Cuddling, Precious Peter Parker, Self-Hatred, Self-Indulgent, Stress, Supportive DUM-E, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 14:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRegularWriter/pseuds/TheRegularWriter
Summary: "He feels utterly terrible. Giving up fixing that mess, Tony hugs his own knees, buries his face against them and cries, and doesn’t stop. The workshop is deadly silent now, his sobs the only noises there. He wants to see nothing but the dark, but all he can see is Peter’s terrified brown eyes, and he keeps hearingI’m so sorry, sir, I’m really sorryas if his mind is a broken record.Tony pulls his own hair hard with one of his hands, sobbing louder.(Somewhere, he hears another voice sayingI’m so sorry, sir, I’m really sorry. A much younger one, but as afraid, as frightened of the angry, scary and tall figure yelling.)"Or: Tony has another one of his bad days and takes it out on Peter.





	Sorry seems to be the hardest word

**Author's Note:**

> Back with my self-indulgent bullshit ayy
> 
> Again, as said in the tags, this focuses on child abuse, so please be careful.
> 
> As always, I'm sorry for writing mistakes or any OOCness - especially since I'm heavily projecting myself here (nothing new, honestly). Regardless, hope you enjoy it!

_What have I got to do to make you love me_

_What have I got to do to make you care_

_What do I do when lightning strikes me_

_And I wake to find that you're not there?_

_What have I got to do to make you want me_

_What have I got to do to be heard_

_What do I say when it's all over?_

_And sorry seems to be the hardest word_

_\- **[Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RMDOXvahh3Y)**, Elton John_

Some days can be hard. It’s part of life, he recalls some motivational internet quote telling him, but he still hates the bad days, wishes they would just stop. Unfortunately, that’s not the case, especially when you’re Tony Stark, certified “piping hot mess”.

There aren’t particular reasons as to why he wakes up and feels like shit. Well, there are – _plenty_ – but it’s not like they’re that recent. Tony has learned the process of recovery is long and not linear; he still hates it, sometimes. Most of the time.

When he’s out in a bad day, he tends to isolate himself in his workshop. Concentrate in his suit of armor, blast AC/DC or Black Sabbath so he doesn’t focus on anything else. Tony tends to be alone on a daily basis, anyway; Pepper, being the CEO, has a lot on her plate, and Rhodey is saving the world as the War Machine (thank goodness he dropped the Iron Patriot title). He’s thankful for that, really. Tony doesn’t like it when the people he cares about are forced to deal with his bullcrap.

Today is no different from the other bad days. This time, the mechanic tries to fix some bugs in his suit and a little device he’s been working on, only for it to break every now and then. He’s been trying to fix it for a while, but it doesn’t go anywhere, and Tony is about to become frustrated with that, when he usually just keeps going, keeps building. It’s what always makes him feel better.

(But today, it’s not.)

At some point he puts it aside and goes back to the suit. He’s tired, so tired, that he swears he could blast that stupid thing in a million pieces. It never gets fucking repaired. He tries to take a deep breath and opens the many tabs the hologram of his armor displays. At least this one is less irritating.

Tony is almost, _almost_ relaxed when F.R.I.D.A.Y tells him that Peter is on his way to the workshop.

“Oh. Oh, god,” Tony groans in pain. “Holy _shit_.”

Only then does he remember that it’s lab day. In his bad day. They were supposed to go for some updates on the Spider-Man suit, then maybe watch Star Wars for the thousandth time or that Brooklyn Nine-Nine show Peter loves making references to. But Tony has completely forgotten because he’s an absolute mess. _Great_.

He can’t really tell the kid to go home now. They’re upstate and Peter didn’t take more than 2 hours to arrive for Tony to kick him out because of his own issues. That’s just cruel. At the same time, he really doesn’t want to deal with it, or anything. He likes spending time with the kid but imagining Peter ramble and ramble on school kind of makes his head ache now. Well, he doesn’t have a choice, does he?

Soon enough, Tony hears the elevator opening from the distance and the bouncy steps of Peter, who sounds happy as always.

“Hey, Mister Stark!” The teen greets him. Tony doesn’t have to look up to know he’s grinning like he’s the sun.

Now, though, it’s blinding him and doesn’t make things in his mind brighten up. He simply acknowledges Peter with a hum and a lame “Hey, kid”.

“I’m feeling so awesome today, I _finally_ aced my Spanish test.” Peter goes on, doesn’t realize that Tony isn’t too focused. “For a moment, I kinda thought I wouldn’t because the teacher can be a little hard on the correction, even if I’ve always studied a lot for it, but now I did it! Not to brag, but I was one of the few people that aced the test and god, you should’ve seen the look on Flash’s face, it was hilarious…”

It goes on and on, because Peter is full on chatterbox. In every other day, Tony would have been proud of the kid. He’s always vented on his Spanish grades and Peter comes stressed with school stuff in general, so him being this happy, not wracking his nerves over exams, is a delight, truly. The billionaire knows so.

Today, though, he doesn’t pay attention, at least pretends to. He keeps staring at the displays of his suit and doesn’t do anything, simply slides his fingers repeatedly. At some point, Peter seems to catch on his mentor’s silence because his voice trails off in an awkward silence.

“… uh, w-what are you doing there?” The teen stutters, sounding nervous.

Tony can’t help the deep sigh that comes out of him. He doesn’t blame the kid, who’s happy like a sunshine, and has to face his grumpy ass mentor.

“Nothing much, I’ve been trying to fix some bugs in the communication system…” Tony replies with an exhausted tone.

“Do you need help?”

“Nah, I’m good. You can do whatever, see if everything’s okay with your suit. I’ll help with the updates later.”

“Um, okay.”

“Just don’t- don’t touch that thing there, alright?” Tony remembers and points at the direction of the damned device in the other side of the table.

“What is that?”

“Just—” Tony breathes heavily, contains a tired groan. “Some stubborn thing I’ve been trying to fix forever. And having no result.” He knows his voice is sharper than he intends, but it comes out like that anyway.

Peter hums and doesn’t say anything else. Tony’s head begins pounding and he knows he can’t work in this state, but he doesn’t want to cancel their plans. As long as Peter does his thing and Tony is concentrated, maybe this bad day will stop bothering him so much.

The older man is finally able to focus, _[Paranoid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5SXeK9DKprM)_ playing in the back at a reasonable volume. Tony hears a shuffle or another coming from Peter, but he doesn’t mind it.

Next thing he knows, though, is a horribly loud noise that deafens him and worsens his headache.

“What the _fuck_, Peter?!” Tony blurts out, his tone is loud and stinging. When he looks, he sees the prototype scattered on the floor.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I w-was just checking it out, a-and-!” Peter tries to get his hands on the broken object, only to be stopped by the man’s yells.

“Goddammit, you **never** listen to me! I told you NOT TO TOUCH MY FUCKING STUFF!”

He’s so mad, seeing the device even more broken, that he steps toward Peter; and when he finds the look on the kid’s face, he stops dead in his tracks. Peter’s brown eyes are wide, growing deep by each second – they stare at him in horror, in fear but, overall, absolute guilt.

“I-I’m so sorry, sir, I’m really sorry,” Peter repeats his apologies for an eternity, and his voice is small and vulnerable.

Tony freezes. His anger has faded away, replaced by something intense. It’s something rising, something hurtful and repressed inside his chest that suddenly comes to the surface when he watches the teenager cry helplessly, begging for forgiveness, backing away from him. _Peter is afraid of him_.

It’s awful. Tony hates it, he hates seeing the kid cry and **he**’s doing this to him. Holy shit.

Since the mechanic doesn’t say another word, Peter begins leaning down to reach the broken device. Goodness, his hands are shaking, and tiny sniffles come out of him.

“No- No, let me handle it.” Tony gets on his knees, softening his voice a great deal.

“B-But I b-broke it—”

“It’s okay. It’s- It’s fine.” Tony feels his own eyes burning. He takes a deep breath and repeats, “It’s okay,” except his voice breaks in the end.

Peter doesn’t say anything. The air is heavy, crushing them both. Tony feels its weight, the weight of his own words and Peter’s, that replay inside his mind over and over. He also realizes there is no song playing in the background, worsening it all.

Tony is still mad, but not at the kid. He’s at himself, at the turmoil of feelings that are taking control over him, at the repressed tears that are threatening to come out. He takes each piece and notices Peter hesitantly reaches his hands to help him nonetheless.

“Peter- seriously, it’s fine. How about you go upstairs and watch something, huh?” Tony tries to sound easy and warm, but his voice is shaky; he can’t stop staring at the way Peter’s hands keep trembling. “Get yourself a snack and whatever.”

He can barely look at the kid’s face without feeling terrible; even then, he can tell that Peter wants to protest, but Tony insists, almost begging, “G-Give me a minute to- to sort out this mess.”

For once, the kid gives in. He hears Peter standing up and quietly going to the elevator. When the door closes, the tears in Tony’s dark eyes do their part. He breaks right there, drops the scattered pieces again and cries, sobs.

He feels utterly terrible. Giving up fixing that mess, Tony hugs his own knees, buries his face against them and cries, and doesn’t stop. The workshop is deadly silent now, his sobs the only noises there. He wants to see nothing but the dark, but all he can see is Peter’s terrified brown eyes, and he keeps hearing _I’m so sorry, sir, I’m really sorry_ as if his mind is a broken record.

Tony pulls his own hair hard with one of his hands, sobbing louder.

(Somewhere, he hears another voice saying _I’m so sorry, sir, I’m really sorry_. A much younger one, but as afraid, as frightened of the angry, scary and tall figure yelling.)

_What has he **done**?_

Eventually, Tony can hear something else. These noises… are like beeping sounds. If that makes sense, they sound concerned. His sobs quiet down when he realizes what is making those.

Only then does he acknowledge DUM-E, which has come all the way to settle beside him. The bot looks like it’s staring at him and there’s a beep that appears to be a question. Maybe, it’s “are you okay?”. Tony can’t answer it. It’s obvious, but he doesn’t say it.

DUM-E leans itself a little to reach him, tries to gently pat his head. Tony sighs and allows the contact that is… weirdly comforting. Part of him feels bad for having yelled at DUM-E all those times before, now that he thinks about it. The robot doesn’t seem to have any hard feelings, anyway; which makes him realize that, despite everything, Peter will probably not blame him for yelling, either. And that sounds so horribly wrong to him.

DUM-E beeps again, sounding encouraging, as if saying that Tony should go after Peter. The black-haired man smiles sadly at his bot, manages to pull him with an arm and give him some kind of side hug.

“Good boy,” Tony whispers. “Sorry for… y’know. Everything.”

It sounds like it accepts his apologies. DUM-E then might say that it loves him (Tony distinctly remembers some long, lost translator notes on what the bot is saying), and his smile grows.

Finally, Tony stands up and recomposes. He dries his face with some tissues DUM-E has grabbed from somewhere and is on his way when he steps on a loose piece of the destroyed device. And, with that, he goes straight to the elevator. He’s not going to worry over something that might never be fixed.

* * *

According to F.R.I.D.A.Y, Peter is staying at the living room, watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine, except he isn’t paying attention to the TV. When Tony finds him, the teenager is hugging his own knees with tear stains clear in his cheeks. Peter might have acknowledged Tony (probably due to his enhanced senses), because he shrinks, hugs himself tighter and avoids any eye contact. It breaks the man’s heart to see him like this.

The billionaire finally sits on the couch beside him. At first, he doesn’t say anything, careful of the words he might say next. Meanwhile, he notices that the TV isn’t loud, serving as background noise. In the show, Tony finds the main character, Jake, making amends with Captain Holt after another disagreement. Peter stares at the screen, to make it seem he’s concentrated, but his breaths quicken with the older man right next to him.

Tony can’t drop this; he shouldn’t, and he won’t.

“Peter,” He calls the boy, tone soft yet remorseful. The teen doesn’t turn around and face him but replies with a gulp. Tony takes a deep breath before speaking at last.

“I’m… I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

Peter shyly begins to face him. His puppy eyes are still afraid, and yet he seems concerned, too.

“I know I tend to overreact but this- this doesn’t justify it. I was really stupid.” Tony swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m so sorry, Pete.”

Despite this, Peter looks guilty.

“No, Mister Stark,” He speaks up. “I-I broke that device, you- you had every right to be mad—”

“_No_, I did not.” Tony is firm but hopes he doesn’t sound mad again. “It’s- It was already pretty busted anyway. And it’s **not** more important than you, okay?”

The teen nods yet he doesn’t look convinced. He sniffles and asks, “A-Are you feeling better?”

Tony shrugs in response and Peter immediately says, “I could… I could go home if you want to be alone—”

“No, no- please, stay.”

The man wants to say more, he wants to make it clear just how much Peter means to him. He doesn’t want him to feel like he’s in the way. Tony doesn’t want Peter to run away and cry, and wonder what he’s done wrong, why he’ll never be good for him. He fears he’s done this to Peter before he started coming over to the compound. He can’t do this again.

Apart from this, he wants to open up. The mess inside him hasn’t silenced, has been sick of being oppressed for any longer. And he has no damn idea how he’s supposed to set it free.

At some point, Tony finds himself gazing at the TV again. He can’t hear much, but he watches Jake Peralta doing his crazy old antics in the NYPD. The fictional character is always joking around, and yet is deemed a brilliant police officer, saving the day in the end.

Although he isn’t as passionate about the show as Peter is, he does remember certain jokes, details about the characters and their backstories. Tony suddenly has an idea.

“You know, I’m… I’m like Jake,” He points at the screen. “He’s the greatest hero there, always makes the dumbest jokes in the squad, teases the people he loves… he’s a genius, so full of humor.”

While Jake smiles like the goofball that he is, Tony’s is sad, melancholic.

“Sometimes- no, he often fucks up – and well, we laugh, but it’s… he ends up hurting everyone he cares about… and deep inside, he’s afraid. Terrified. Of getting left behind, of losing everyone. He still wants love, love his parents couldn’t give; but he keeps… making mistakes, driving people away.”

Tony’s voice gradually becomes a whisper, until there’s nothing left. He doesn’t look at Peter, only stares at the TV with regret, without focusing on anything in the screen. His mind is clouded, gloomy thunderclouds blinding him. He doesn't shed tears again, finding out he has none stored now. Despite this, his chest is still wrecked with pain. Wrecked with Rogers' shield buried in his suit of armor, his heart and trust. The same shield his father created, the one that was supposed to protect people, ended up used against Tony.

(Sometimes, Tony wonders if Howard was right. If everyone was right. That he’s this horrible of a being.)

The older man senses his hand being squeezed. A hand not much smaller than his, but a soft one at that. It isn’t delicate and assertive like Pepper’s, nor firm and solid like Rhodey’s. It’s… different. Somehow, it feels empathetic and grounding in a good way.

Tony instantly returns to reality. Brooklyn Nine-Nine is still on and Peter, his kid… he’s gazing at him, with an understanding, worried look. There is no pity there.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispers. The mechanic doesn’t reply. There’s a moment of silence between them, until the teenager starts rubbing his hand and takes a little breath to say more.

“Listen, Jake does… make a lot of dumb decisions. But you know what makes him so charming and loved?” Peter asks; sensing his look on him, Tony finally faces him. There’s determination in his eyes now.

“He’s always trying to be better.”

Tony doesn’t answer. He stares at the kid, who has more to say.

“Every episode he tries to fix his mistakes. When he hurts people, he doesn’t feel fine with it. He always goes out of the way to apologize and make things right. He never stops learning from his mistakes.” A smile starts revealing itself in Peter’s face. “He becomes a better friend, a better police officer… a better boyfriend and husband to an awesome woman. I’m pretty sure he’ll become a way better dad than his own.”

There’s so much certainty in his speech that Tony… Tony trusts that he can believe him. The words hit him, but not as a way to knock him down. They pull him back up.

“He may slip up, but he never gives up on doing the right thing,” Peter emphasizes. “And that’s what makes him awesome and admirable. I hope you can… you can believe that.”

Maybe, he won’t. But Tony wants to. For Peter, for Pepper… for himself.

For once, the billionaire cracks a smile. “You’re good at this pep talk thing, huh.”

Peter laughs, not expecting it. “Learned it from the best.”

“I’m flattered, though you did it in your nerd way—”

“Oh, no, I meant May.”

Tony looks offended, and Peter laughs harder. When the teen stops, his smile fades and suddenly he grows nervous. Tony almost asks why when he catches Peter almost opening his arms, only to retreat them.

“Um. Are- Are we… like, there now?” He asks.

Tony snorts and replies with a tight hug. “Yeah, kid. We’re there.”

Peter is startled at first, but he quickly wraps his arms around him as well.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony repeats, still feeling bad.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you talked to me.”

“You’re too good for this world.”

Peter mocks, “I know.”

The man rolls his eyes and pats the boy’s back before letting him go. He’s able to breathe again, without feeling the weight of guilt destroying him.

After the emotional honesty moment, Tony and Peter remain in the living room. They eventually grab something to eat but for most of the time, they watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine for the rest of the day. Peter has cleared out with his Aunt May that he’s staying over, so they don’t see the day passing by. They laugh along at the dumbness of the show, which still manages to be great.

Finally, Tony and Peter are close, the former lying his head on the latter’s. For the first time that day, the mechanic relaxes, for once and for all. He becomes quieter and… gradually begins closing his eyes. The smell of Peter’s shampoo makes him feel safe, for whatever weird reason. Still, he snuggles his face against the boy’s curls and shuts his eyes, the TV sounding distant now. He faintly hears Peter laugh, only for it to die down. Tony doesn’t check on it and slowly, he starts drifting off…

… that is, when he feels himself being lifted, and two seemingly thin arms carrying him. Tony opens his eyes in confusion and groans tiredly when it comes to him that Peter is carrying him.

“Ay…” Tony tries to protest.

“Time for bed, Mister Stark.”

“Nuh-uh, I have no bedtime.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony knows Peter is rolling his eyes. The kid asks F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn off the TV and he starts walking with the man in his arms. Tony is too exhausted to protest.

“You’re heavier than you look,” Peter says. “And you’re so tiny.”

“Watch it,” Tony threatens, only to get a laugh out of the kid.

“Whatever you say, ‘Tiny Stark’.” Peter snorts and Tony won’t contain his.

The spider-kid carries him all the way to the man’s bedroom, thus placing him in bed and even tucking him in. What has he done to deserve this kid?

“You, um, want me to stay?” Peter asks and Tony replies trying to mimic his puppy eyes and a pout. The teen laughs again and joins him. “Can’t say no to that face,” He mocks.

“I learned from the master.”

Peter snuggles against him. “G’night.”

“Good night. Don’t let the bugs bite.”

“I’m a spider…” Peter yawns. “I’ll eat them all.”

“… okay, that’s gross.”

Another snort later, Peter seems to have blacked out. Tony might have done the same, but he can’t help but watch the teenager sleep. He looks so young… and safe here. The man sighs… and has quite a sad thought about their whole moment today.

None of this… would have happened when Tony was younger. Were he to break something in the workshop, Howard would scream at him and, if he were lucky, would send him straight to his room without eating dinner. Maria… she was someone he missed dearly, but he sadly acknowledges that she wouldn’t have offered the same comfort. At some point, she became busier and overall just kept telling Tony that Howard loved him, even though there were clear bruises in his face and arms, and the man’s words echoing inside him every day. They wouldn’t have these actual family bonding times. The boy was never good enough for him… _neither_ of them, really.

The people that were supposed to take care of him did a lousy job. Howard, Maria… Obadiah while he’s at that. He was meant to be what Tony is to Peter, and yet he used him in a lot more ways than Tony liked to admit. He vividly remembers Obadiah touching him, reinforcing his power on him at every chance he got. He remembers him taking his arc reactor off. Making it clear that he never gave a damn about Tony.

The man has accepted that none of the three have been great. The marks just… never left him. When Tony saw Peter crying today, apologizing, he… he heard his child self say the same to his father. That little kid… he’s still here, inside Tony. Has been repressed for longer than he could accept.

In the very least, he still has people who could teach him to be himself. Not like his parents nor his fake mentor. He had Jarvis. He has his best friend, his fiancé… and he has the nerdiest, sweetest kid right here in his arms.

Speaking of him, he feels Peter snuggling even closer, as if knowing Tony is still feeling guilty and distressed. The man almost wants to squeeze at how freaking adorable he is.

Tony buries his face against the kid’s messy curls and… he takes a while but kisses his head. Peter melts at that and mumbles incomprehensible, pleased noises. The genius snorts quietly.

“I love you, Pete,” He whispers. “You’re my kid and I’m so, so proud of you.” With that, Tony hugs him and closes his eyes with a smile on his face.

Before he falls asleep, though… he can distinctly hear a hum and a voice replying, “Love you, too… Tony.”

**Author's Note:**

> //personal shit below (TW - child abuse, emotional abuse, mention of bullying and trauma)
> 
> I've been meaning to write a story touching on Tony's parents and (though less directly) his former mentor, but nothing really came to me until now. Recently, I've been reading some articles on C-PTSD or Complex-Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Unlike normal PTSD, it's when someone goes through several traumatic experiences or one repeatedly for a longer period of time instead of one single event. A common example of that is childhood abuse.
> 
> Although I don't like to label myself or my experiences, reading about C-PTSD has been making me think a lot more about my own childhood and my teenage years. Throughout my life I've been through emotional (sometimes physical) abuse by my dysfunctional parents, as well as bullying at school, and I identify with the majority of the symptoms of C-PTSD. Many of them are also present in normal PTSD, but there are some particular of its complex counterpart, such as:
> 
> \- difficulty controlling emotions  
\- fear of trusting people  
\- hypervigilance towards others and environments  
\- avoidance of certain situations due to triggers  
\- emotional flashbacks - in which you don't need to remember what happened, but you experience the same intense emotions you had during a past, traumatic moment
> 
> Digesting all of this, concluding that yes, I've been abused, is really hard. I end up acting like my parents sometimes and I feel like I'm the worst person in the world. But like Tony, I'm not going to quit. I may not get past their habits completely, nor my past mistakes, but I'll make sure I'll get better. I'll learn to forgive myself at some point.
> 
> If you've been through abuse of any kind, I hope you can forgive yourself, too. You never deserved to be treated the way you were. You're not like your abusers because just recognizing that what they did is bad makes you better. You can work to be a much better person. It's not going to be easy, but I believe in you.
> 
> Alright, so, _hopefully_, I'll get to write happier stuff....... aaaand actually get my ass to work on my WIPs. I must say that I might have... been dealing with a little depression these last weeks, so drawing and writing stuff has become something hard to do. When I do write, it ends up being a way for me to express my feelings. Regardless, I promise I have not given up on my unfinished stuff and I'll get around to them at some point. I'll have to be patient with myself.
> 
> Well, until next time! Take care of yourselves! <3


End file.
